


don't trust the moon

by plinys



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Earth 2, Character Study, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Gen, Multiverse Theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: Fitz shifts nervously, “Uh, hi?”“Right, shit, I just, give me a second,” he says holding up a hand, and taking a steadying breath. Another familiar motion. “Do you believe in alternate universes? I mean, you’re me from this universe, so you should believe in the multiverse theory, but honestly who the fuck knows, right?”(Or: In which, Fitz keeps meeting an alternate universe version of himself, who goes by Leopold, and may very well be Hydra.)





	don't trust the moon

**Author's Note:**

> me, makes joking posts on twitter about what it would be like if rw!fitz met fw!fitz  
> two people: okay but jess this is a good crack idea  
> me, takes it too seriously and write 7.5k of fic
> 
> (To be clear, this is 99% Fitz character study, with the two versions of him interacting over the course of the AoS story line. In this the "Framework" world is a parallel earth, similar to Earth 2 in DCTV. Both ship tags show up in minor ways - rw!Fitz is dating Jemma, while fw!Fitz is with Ophelia/Madame Hydra. Neither of which is the focus of the fic at all but for minor scenes.)

One minute there’s just Fitz, standing alone in the SHIELD Academy Chem Labs waiting for Simmons to arrive so that they can work on their group project together.

And then next there’s more.

Another.

Someone else. 

A burst of light and suddenly there’s a man standing across from him. 

Staring at a double of himself seems about the appropriate answer, because really what was one supposed to do when faced with a person that looks identical to them appearing suddenly in a burst of light.

The other him - his  _ clone?  _ his  _ double _ ? - recovers first, face going from surprised to elated in an instant. Fitz knows that look well. It’s his own face.

“Oh fuck me, yes. Can you believe - holy fuck, god, Ophelia is going to fucking amazed, bloody hell, I can’t believe-” 

Well there was one difference, the other him apparently cursed like a sailor, or maybe it was just the excitement. 

Fitz shifts nervously, “Uh, hi?”

“Right, shit, I just, give me a second,” he says holding up a hand, and taking a steadying breath. Another familiar motion. “Do you believe in alternate universes? I mean, you’re me from this universe, so you should believe in the multiverse theory, but honestly who the fuck knows, right?” 

He’s heard of it before. It’s come up in SHIELD research, something that SHIELD was looking into, but not a project that Fitz had been selected to be a part of, his skill set didn’t necessarily line up with that area of research. 

At least not in this universe apparently. 

In another… 

“Are you saying that you’re me from another universe.” 

The other him, gestures between them, with a move that is clearly meant to say  _ obviously _ .

Which, okay, true. 

SHIELD had taught him to expect the unexpected even now with a year at the academy under his belt,  but also - “How does that even work?”

“Science,” the other him says, before adding, “It’s classified. I’m not even exactly sure how I got it to work. Ophelia and I have been researching this extensively since we first met and realized our  _ mutual interests _ ,” the word carries a vague connotation that Fitz does not understand. “It was just supposed to be a test run. She’s going to murder me for doing this without her but god - can you fucking believe? Multiverse travel!”

He has to admit it is kind of exhilarating. 

He’s a scientist, and as a scientist the idea of this, of it actually working makes him excited too. The research opportunities presented by having someone from a parallel universe, another version of him around - for academic purposes alone it’s fascinating. 

Fitz can already see some of the differences between. 

Despite the fact they look identical, the other him dresses nicer - dress pants, suspenders and white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows - Fitz can imagine him just having shed his suit jacket before starting the experiment. 

For another, he holds himself different. Stands straighter. Head held high. Maybe it’s the elation of an experiment gone right, but Fitz cannot help but feel instantly jealous of the other version of himself for having clear self confidence. 

And beyond that -  

“What are you doing?” 

“Well, I can’t stay,” the other him insists, from where he’s fiddling with the remote in his hand, clearly intended to disappear just as quickly as he had appeared. 

Fitz’s only chance to ask questions about a parallel world disappearing within a second. 

“You don’t have to, I mean? I could help you fix that, I am an engineer.” 

The other him looks honestly surprised by this, “Dad let you do engineering?” 

_ Dad _ . 

There it was another difference. 

One that made him momentarily ache with jealousy for another world.

“What did you study?” 

“Ah,” this gives him a pause, the word drawing out. Hesitance. He’s about to tell a lie. Fitz can tell because he does the same thing. “Biology, astrology, history - the usual sort of thing.” 

None of those were the usual sort of thing.

The only one that could pass is biology and Fitz can’t imagine himself being interested in that sort of thing. He’s seen enough of Simmons’ projects to know that it is nowhere up his alley. 

“Honestly, this is more of Ophelia’s special project, but you know how she gets-”

“How who gets?”

For a second suddenly the other him freezes what he’s doing, and when he looks up it’s with a shocked and almost worried look on his face. “Ophelia. Ophelia Pierce, our girlfriend. Well, my girlfriend, are you two not together yet?”

“I’ve never heard of her.”

Another difference.

This one making the other him look anxious suddenly. 

“She’s incredible, daughter of one of the heads-”

“Wait, Alexander Pierce, World Security Council, that guy?”

“That’s him!”

“I didn’t know he had a kid.” 

“Well, in my universe he does, and she is my constant lab partner, and girlfriend, once our study sessions got hot and heavy, you know how that goes?”

Fitz nods like he does.

He doesn’t, but there was something about telling another universe version of himself that he was still a virgin that feels disappointing. 

“Sat next to me on the first day of the academy, for Dr. Weaver’s speech, and the rest was history.” 

He remembers that day, that opening speech, and  _ Jemma Simmons  _ taking the seat next to him. 

He doubted that was enough to change a whole universe but - 

“Fitz? Are you here already?”

Speaking of Simmons - 

“That’s my cue,” the other him says, and before Fitz can stop him a button is pressed and in another flash of light he’s gone.

Just in time for Simmons to walk in.

“Are you alright, Fitz, you look pale?”

 

*

 

He spends the next two days obsessively studying the multiverse theory, talking with the other students focused on the subject. He listens carefully for the name that the other him had mentioned, but he doesn’t find her.

She doesn’t exist.

An anomaly. 

An isolated incident.

He forgets about alternative universes and girls that don’t exist in a few days, when Simmons drags him down to the Boiler Room and smiles so bright it could light up the sun and the only place he could ever want to be is right there beside her. 

 

*

 

If it had been a one time thing he could have written it off.

But it’s not.

The other him keeps showing up. 

Thankfully only ever when Fitz is alone and not for too long. He carries a green journal that he frantically scribbles notes into, takes sensor readings, and makes small talk before leaving again.

Fitz has become almost used to it.

And has managed to gather a small bits of information each time.

For instance the other him prefers to go by  _ Leopold _ , full name and said in a haughty tone that Fitz could replicate even if he wanted to.

Then there’s the fact that he always appears wherever Fitz is, due to something localized law of multiverse attraction that stated one made it so Leopold could only go to universes where another him existed and that due to this he was always dropped in the same location as that other version of himself.

And of course, the inevitable discussion of - 

“I mean, logically, we should do it, for science purposes.”

“Please stop talking.” 

“Are we not scientists?”

Fitz pinches the bridge of his noise and pointedly does not answer Leopold’s question. If he waits long enough the other him will give up - Fitz knows this because he would do the same thing. 

He’s supposed to be studying for him finals next week, but is currently distracted by the multiverse traveler sprawled out over his bed. 

His suit is more rumpled than usual this time, though the only thing he seems to make a conscious effort to smooth down is his hair. Usually he spends his time here trying to fix his  _ hopper  _ to go back to his world or taking his notes, but this time Leopold is just laying there. 

A distraction, but one that makes Fitz more curious that he would like it admit.

Finishing his robotics assignment could momentarily wait. 

“What are you even doing here?”

“Running a test of-”

“You know I can tell that’s a lie,” Fitz cuts him off. “I know how I lie.”

He knows most of their expressions, can recognized himself easily enough, particularly the way Leopold looks around Fitz’s room to avoid talking. 

“Leopold-”

“Father came to visit,” he says quickly, “Gave me some lecture on how I’m not progressing up the social chain fast enough, that High Cou- that the higher ups won’t notice me at this rate. That I’m allowing myself to be  _ distracted  _ by my project and Ophelia.” 

He doesn’t remember his father well, vague memories of growing up being told he was a disappointment, until his father went to the store one day and never came back. Things were different in the other world, and Fitz had always wanted to ask, but whenever he did the question was pushed aside or waved off. 

A sore subject.

He could tell that much too. 

There’s also that implication, that in the other world, their father is part of SHIELD.

Something that Fitz wants to ask about another time, surely there will be a better time for that, not one where the other him looks like he’s ten minutes away from breaking something. 

It’s not weird that he can tell this. That he can feel a similar impulse. 

Surely not. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Fuck no.” 

“Okay, then help quiz me for my final.” 

He’s not sure what he really expects, but he tosses the study book at Leopold, and watches as the other him catches it with ease. Something Fitz’s isn’t sure he could manage himself. Cracking it open to the exact section that he was supposed to be studying for with practiced ease. 

“Let’s start with the easy stuff,” Leopold says, “What are the the three laws of robotics?”

 

*

 

“Shit.”

“Well, you can cuss, a fucking miracle,” Leopold grins at him in that awful smug way, and normally Fitz would say something about that, but he’s just checked the time and any second there’s going to be a knock at his door. 

Simmons is rarely late.

“You need to leave.”

“I can’t,” Leopold says, waving his hopper pointedly, “You know it needs to recharge, we’ve been over this, I’m working on ways to shorten the time but until then-”

“Simmons is going to be here in two minutes.”

“The famous Jemma Simmons, the girl you’re obsessed with, but haven’t gotten the nerve to kiss yet,” Leopold asks, somehow sounding more smug, something Fitz didn’t know was possible, “That Jemma Simmons? I can’t wait to meet her.”

“You can’t meet her.” 

“I’d let you meet Ophelia.”

Of course he would.

But this was different, for one thing Simmons wasn’t his girlfriend, despite everything he felt for her he hadn’t been able to make that push. 

Yet. 

They’d get there he was sure of it. 

Things like this just took time and careful precise moves. 

One of which was not telling the girl of his dreams, who very much did not believe in the supernatural or the paranormal or magic or alternate universes. 

He says as much, “She doesn’t believe in the multiverse.” 

He can still remember her clear look of disapproval that week he had been obsessed with studying it.

Leopold makes a face at that gesturing to himself, “Let me prove her wrong.” 

“No, you can’t, I-” and there it is the knock at the door.

“Fitz?”

He drops his voice into a whisper quickly, “You need to go.”

A whisper that Leopold matches, “I can’t for another five minutes.” 

“Get in the closet then.”

“Oh come on, you can’t be bloody serious.” 

“In the closet-”

“Fitz are you in there?”

“Just a second,” he calls back out loudly, this time turning to give Leopold a pointed glare. 

Finally he gives in. “Try to tell her?” The last suggestion he offers up before going into the closet as instructed. 

It’s sort of funny to think about.

He’s keeping his alternate universe twin locked in a closet. 

The thought brings a small laugh bubbling up in his chest, and when he opens the door for Simmons there’s still a silly smile on his face. 

A smile that only grows at the sight of her. 

“What did I miss?” 

“It’s a long story.”

“Short version,” she asks, inviting herself into the room and taking claim of his desk chair, the same seat Leopold had been sitting in moments before. 

“Evil twins from alternate universes.” 

He’s certain he’s only imagining the offended noise from the closet, because Simmons doesn’t react to it. 

Instead she heaves a great sigh, “Oh Fitz, you’re not still on about that multiverse nonsense are you?”

Agreeing with her is reflexive and easy. “No, of course not.”

“Well then what are you talking about?”

“Did you watch last weeks Smallville?”

 

*

 

It takes two weeks for Leopold to show up again and when he does he’s drunk and it’s the middle of the night and Fitz just wants to sleep. 

“I can’t believe you lied about me,” Leopold says, practically laying on top of Fitz, “And called me  _ evil,  _ I’m insulted.”

“Why are you like this? I’m trying to sleep?” 

“I mean she’s cute but at what cost, my god, I thought we were friends.”

He passes out after that. A dead weight that Fitz shifts to the other side of the bed. 

A dead weight that is gone in the morning. 

 

*

 

The rest of his academy days go on without incident. 

A year passes and another. 

Visits that had been weekly occurrence for two years of his life stop as if they had never happened and Fitz tries not to focus on it. Whatever Leopold is up to in his other world is none of his business. 

Until it is.

Until there’s someone, another him, bleeding in his lab station, a bullet wound in his side. 

“Leopold?”

“You’re still in a lab,” not the first thing he had expected the other him to say. 

Not after appearing suddenly, holding his side where blood is soaking his fingers. 

“I failed my field exams,” Fitz admits, because being specific and saying that he can’t swim and his hands shake he he holds a gun is too much to admit to the other him. The one clearly wearing field gear and bleeding -

Oh god, he’s bleeding. 

Fitz pulls his eyes away from the blood. 

Already feeling his stomach churning. 

“I need you to patch me up.”

“I don’t think I can,” his voice shakes at the words. 

He looks over at Leopold, at a face identical to his own, and clearly in pain.

“You don’t know how to stitch someone up?”

“I’m not good with blood,” he admits. “Like really bad, like may throw up bad.”

“Someone clearly never went to summer camp,” is a cryptic answer that earns him a small grin, then a grimace, the pain still clearly there. “Get me a medkit, I can stitch myself up for now, since one of us is a little bitch.” 

It’s a joke. 

He’s joking so clearly he’s fine. 

Fitz isn’t going to have to watch himself die.

A small miracle.

A very small one.

“Yeah, medkit, got it.”

This Fitz can do. 

He helps Leopold shrug off his suit jacket. (There’s a pin on his lapel, but when Fitz goes to look at it, Leopold covers it up, removing the pin and leaving a blood stain in his wake before he shoves it into his pocket out of sight. Now is not the time to ask. Especially not when he could have sworn the symbol looked familiar.)

Helps him with the buttons of his shirt too, when Leopold’s hands shake too much to manage them. (It’s odd to do this from the other side. He’s never unbuttoned a man’s shirt before, though he’s considered it under other circumstances with other men.)

“You should be wearing kevlar,” he says, once he’s done as much as he can handle. Handing the medical kit off to Leopold, who takes to patching himself up with practiced ease.

_ This  _ was why Fitz never wanted to go into the field. 

Despite all of Jemma’s insisting. 

“Kevlar is for bitches.”

Fitz gestures pointedly to the bullet wound in Leopold’s side. 

Leopold, heaves a dramatic sigh in reply, “Normally nobody is stupid enough to actually shoot me.” 

“Really with your attitude, I’m not surprised more people aren’t.” 

Leopold makes a sort of half laugh noise at that, but it still sounds pained. 

Probably not the best time for jokes. 

“I’m highly accomplished, rising to the top, future head of the science division if I don’t die before then, everyone says as much. On top of that, I have the world’s most beautiful girlfriend-” 

“Still Ophelia?”

“You still pining after that Simmons girl?”

“Point taken.” 

“Honestly, I’m just shocked you haven’t tried to kill me and take over my life.” 

“Who even thinks of these things?” 

“Like you have never,” Leopold gives him a disbelieving look. 

Not the first and probably not the last. 

“This is why I called you the evil twin. Normal people don’t think about things like that.” 

“You know, out of all the universes ours are the most similar. There’s small variations, as you’ve noticed, clearly, but in general we’re very similar. You could do it, if you wanted to, easily slip into my life, play at being me and have the world at your fingertips.” 

He’s never thought about it before, but he’s hit with the sudden awareness that he wouldn’t want that.

“I think I’m good.” 

“I’m glad, I’d hate you have to kill you. You’re like a little brother to me.” 

“We’re the same person.”

“I mean, I’m better than you, that makes me older by default.” 

“Says the one of us who can’t dodge a bullet.” 

And just like that, everything is back to normal. 

As if Leopold hasn’t stopped visiting for years. 

As if one of them weren’t currently trying to stitch himself up while the other looked away lest his stomach turn. 

As if they really were nothing more than old friends. 

Not the same person.

With a few small differences. 

 

*

 

He finds out the difference.

The big one.

The one that means everything.

The one that makes the familiar jokes of  _ evil twin  _ so insignificant.

The one that he knew, a part of him know, when he saw that pin on the other him’s lapel. 

It’s just different now, knowing in theory and knowing in reality, after SHIELD has fallen and people he trusted turned out to be Hydra.

He didn’t think he could handle another betrayal. 

Except there he is, the other him,  _ Leopold _ . With Jemma and Skye pointing guns at him. With a wild and dangerous look in his eyes, a black lab coat with the Hydra symbol predominant and too large to ignore on his pocket.

Black lab coat, of course, nothing says evil quite like it. 

“Fitz, I’d really like an explanation here,” Skye says, not moving the gun towards  _ him  _ just yet, but he’s sure it’s only a matter of time. He counts himself lucky that they haven’t alerted the rest of the base, the rest of the team. 

Jemma’s look of betrayal is too much for him to handle.

He focuses instead on the crazy look in eyes that are identical to his own.

“He’s my evil twin from an alternate universe.”

“You have to be joking-”

“Oh Fitz, you’re not really-”

“I’m not  _ evil _ . From my point of view you’re-”

“Stop it, all of you,” he cuts the three of them off. 

He needs a second to process this, but he doesn’t have a second.

So he takes a deep steadying breath and starts again, pretends he has control of the situation. He speaks to Jemma, because she is the one that needs to understand this. The one that he can’t lose. “Remember back at the academy, that bit of time where I got obsessed with the multiverse theory.”

She nods once, he counts that as a small victory. 

“Well, that’s because someone from another universe - him - came to visit me, and that wasn’t the only time okay. It’s happened a handful of times, but I never realized he was Hydra. I would never have let it continue if I knew.” 

He says it like he means it. 

Angry and vicious because Hydra has hurt him, has hurt  _ them. _

He does not focus on the way Leopold’s eyes have gone cold.

As if he’s betrayed himself. 

The illusion of playing along nicely disappears. 

“That’s all very poetic, little brother, but I personally don’t give a fuck. If I had known you were some little SHIELD loyalist bitch, I would have never bothered visiting. Sharing my research with you, what a fucking mistake.”

He does not rise to the bait. 

Skye does. 

“Well, I for one, am glad our Fitz isn’t a Nazi.”

His face flushes, embarrassed and angry at the same time. “We are not! Hydra has a legacy stretching back generations hundreds of of years, since the Ancient Greeks. The decision that one head makes does not affect the other heads! When I am on Hydra High Council, I will-”

“Stop it.” 

It’s Jemma’s voice that cuts Leopold off.

He’s going to have to fix this later. With Jemma, he’s going to have to explain everything to her like she should have back at the academy. 

“I can’t believe that Fitz would be Hydra, that you could be a bad man in any universe. I know you, you’re better than this, you’re-”

“Jemma don’t try to reason with him.”

“Jemma, this is her?”

“Don’t-”

“Jemma Simmons, good god, I do know her,” Leopold says, and the sinking feeling in Fitz’s stomach only increases. “Have you managed to fuck her yet? I could, if you’re too much of a pussy to.”

“Shut the bloody hell up.” 

“I think I killed her,” Leopold continues, pointing his thumb and forefinger like a gun. “I mean, SHIELD was falling and those not loyal to Hydra were expendable. Cute girl. I remember now she took a biochem class with Ophelia, scored better than her on the final, and well my girl doesn’t like that, couldn’t very well let her live after that. Also she was very stubbornly loyal to SHIELD. I mean, until I put two bullets in here and well, nobody’s loyal to SHIELD after that.”

Punching himself is not as satisfying as it could be. 

It hurts his hand more than anything, but it shuts Leopold up, the shocked expression clear on his face.

Their eyes meet and neither of them move, the world seems to stop.

Fitz isn’t sure where the urge comes from the one that makes him want to hurt him more. He tells himself that it’s because he hurt Jemma because this monstrous version of him  _ killed  _ her in another world. How could they be the same after that? No, Leopold was a monster and - 

“Why don’t we give them some space,” Jemma says, her voice soft and sure and when Skye follows her out of the room, they seem to take all of his fight with them. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

When they leave he lowers his hand, watches as the mirror version of him clenches and unclenches his fist but never loses that shocked look. In fact, the anger seems to have dissipated from him at once and replaced by a look that Fitz knows.

An expression he’s seen in his own face a lot lately. 

Panic.

Stressed.

Lost.

“Why are you here?”

“I don’t need this right now,” Leopold says, his voice more hollow than angry now. “I don’t want to fight with you over our moral principles. This is the multiverse, this is the difference between our worlds. You may be SHIELD-” the word still holds its not of disdain “-But this isn’t, the bloody time for that.”

Sometime’s wrong.

Fitz’s own world is falling apart. SHIELD vs Hydra. Losing friends. Losing his sense of who he is.

But Leopold seems to be in a similar situation. 

“If you don’t tell me-”

“They took Ophelia! Someone! I don’t know who! There were so many people interested in our research and Ophelia insisted that I didn’t share it with anyone, but I did, I wanted to use it to climb the ranks and-” He’s shaking, his voice breaking, “She’s gone. She’s not in my universe anymore, I built a way to sense her, a tracker sort of, but she’s not there and she’s clearly not here and I need to keep going. I need to keep-”

“It’s going to be okay.”

Going from angry to concerned so quickly is a whiplash even for him.

But he tries to imagine it, what he would do if Jemma was taken from him, and he gets it. On some fundamental level he gets it. Maybe not all the evil Hydra bits, but that willingness to do whatever it takes to keep the person they care about safe.

He’s long since been aware that he would die for Jemma.

And if Leopold feels that way about Ophelia then…

“Go,” he says, the  _ don’t come back here  _ implied. 

“Your girl took my hopper.” 

“Give me a minute, I’ll get it for you.”

 

*

 

He promises to explain it all to her, because she deserves the truth.

But there’s never a chance, it all happens so fast, and suddenly nothing else matters.

“Yeah, you’re more than that, Jemma.”

 

*

 

“Hey, Turbo, didn’t I just see you?”

He jerks his head at Mack’s question, eyes snapping up from the tablet in his hand, blurting out the word, “What?” as he does so.

“Five minutes ago, you were lost looking for you room,” Mack says, with a softness, and kindness that says he doesn’t judge and usually Fitz appreciates that lack of judgment. However, he hadn’t been in his room, he’d been in the laboratory running some tests. His confused look must show because a second later Mack is speaking up. “Why don’t we get the doctor’s to check, if you’re having memory problems, they could-”

“I’m - I’m fine - honestly, very much - just back to my room,” he purposely does not focus on how that sentence only just made sense, not when he has somewhere else he needs to be because there’s only one explanation for this. “Back to my room, I’m - I’m going now.”

“Yeah, okay, Turbo,” Mack says, but Fitz’s doesn’t stick around to listen, hurrying to his room as fast as his feet can take him. 

He’s not surprised, not really, when he opens the door to find a familiar figure lounging across his bed, having made himself at home already. 

“You!”

“Missed me?”

“Get the - the hell out,” Fitz says, feeling his cheeks heat up as he stumbles over his words. “I don’t want - get out - Hydra scum - honestly.” 

The cocksure look that is always on Leopold’s face slips away at once, looking Fitz over with an expression that is concerned. 

An expression he’s seen on too many people’s faces lately. 

An expression he really didn’t want to see on a face identical to his own.

He’s had enough pity.

Doesn’t need pity from himself.

“What happened?” 

He almost doesn’t answer. This other him, this  _ Hydra  _ him, doesn’t deserve the answer, but the words come out anyways. Jumbled and a mess. “I have - have brain damage - there was a pod at the - ocean and - and we were going to drown if I didn’t -  I had to save Jemma, she - I had to.” 

Leopold nods along to this.

The feeling of being understood such a rare thing that Fitz feels a small burst of relief.

The essential similarity between the two of them, that they would die for the women they loved without question. 

He remembers now how Leopold had looked the last time they met. What felt like eons ago now, stressed because - 

“Did you - you find Ophelia?”

“Yes,” Leopold says, “It’s complicated, but she’s home safe now. Which is why I came back here to apologize for how I acted when I was stressed. She insisted. My conscious in that way. Always the one of us with a level head, she doesn’t let anything get to her, even this… Pointed out that I shouldn’t let the differences in universe ruin a friendship.” 

“That’s good,” he says, and he means it. 

He truly does. 

He wasn’t really sure how to handle the fact that he was friends with himself, an evil version of himself, but he was glad. 

Or at least he was until Leopold asks - 

“How’d you end up in a pod at the bottom of the ocean?”

“A friend - not a - a former friend - he was Hydra and he - he dropped us in the ocean and-”

“Who?”

There’s something low and cold and deadly about the way he says it. Like he would kill Ward, if Fitz only said the world. He could imagine it, this other him, this darker him, being the type to kill. Enjoying it. 

He’s Hydra, yes, but there’s more to it than that.

“Who,” he repeats the word, more demanding now.

Fitz shakes his head. 

This he will stand his ground on. 

This is his battle to fight.

Leopold must understand that because he heaves some sort of great dramatic sigh, the familiar sort, the ones that remind him of his academy days when things were easier. 

“Well, if you change your mind, little brother-”

“We’re the - the same person.”

 

*

 

He comes by to check in n Fitz every so often. Casual, hiding out in his room until he gets back, asking questions that Fitz doesn’t want to answer. Like who he needs to add to his hit list and where certain other people are and -

“I wanted to give you this.”

“You - You’re hopper?”

“My spare,” Leopold corrects, “Well, sort of. It’s got one set location, you press this and it takes you straight into my apartment. I can’t keep coming here, it’s complicated on my end and well, your people wouldn’t take so well to me being here. However, if you ever get in a bad situation again, trapped at the bottom of the ocean, or if you just want to visit my universe. Here’s the option.” 

This is a big deal. 

He can tell that much, he can also tell that Leopold is genuinely concerned. Something that feels shocking to Fitz especially when he remembers that the other him is Hydra, and from the sounds of it someone very high up in Hydra. 

He’s different. 

A darker version of himself, that Fitz sometimes looks in the mirror and tries to imagine being.

But he’s not evil, not really.

There’s still some good left in him, and if there’s good left in him then…

“Thanks.” 

 

*

 

Jemma is gone.

Taken and it feels like the world is ending, his world is ending and there’s no easy answer. Coulson and the rest of the team tells him to give up, that all hope is lost, that somethings can’t be fixed but, there was one thing he had left to try.

His hands shake, like they haven’t shaken in a while as he pulls the hopper out from his desk drawer. He’d never thought he’d use it, never had a reason to, until now.

“Here goes nothing,” he mutters to himself, pressing the button on the top, the one that will take him across the multiverse and then -

It’s sudden.

A feeling momentarily like the universe is crushing in on him.

Like all air is being pulled out of his lungs.

Like he’s drowning again.

And then, it’s over.

He can breathe again. 

He can see again.

He really did it.

“Bloody hell,” he says, sucking in more air that he needs because he can again, before finally taking stock of his surroundings. He’s in an apartment, an open living space, two couches arranged around a glass table he had just narrowly avoided. A color scheme that somehow manages to be both dark and sterile. He jerks his head around to study the apartment, the ceiling to floor windows opening up to a balcony and a city beyond it, a dining table off to his right, an immaculate open office space to his left, while behind him stands -

The Hydra symbol on the wall is large, meant to take up space, meant to be the centerpiece to the room, a reminder of where he is.

He can’t help the involuntary chill he feels at the sight of it.

A picture perfect penthouse for the head of Hydra. 

He moves towards it instinctively, towards the piano sitting underneath it, only to stop suddenly, freezing in place at the sound of a door opening. His fight or flight instincts failing him and keeping him locked in place as the door open and a woman he’s never seen before enters.

His first thought is that she’s beautiful. 

Almost too beautiful to be human.

His second thought is - 

“Leopold, why didn’t you tell me you were back?”

“I-”

He never gets the chance to answer, because a moment later she is kissing him. He kisses back instinctively, like it’s second nature, because that’s what one does when a beautiful woman kisses you. 

It only takes him two more second after that to remember where he is, and who he is kissing, and who she’s actually dating.

Who he’s actually dating.

He pushes back on her shoulders and she pulls away at once. Looking confused for only a brief moment before her face shifts into an almost smile. Not a real one, not a sincere one, but a small upward tilt of her lips, as he says, “I’m sorry, I-”

“You’re the other one, aren’t you? From the other Earth?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“Well, you stopped kissing me, Leopold would never do that.”

“I have a - a girlfriend, sort of, she’s not - at the moment, but I-”

“Jemma Simmons, right?” 

“How do you know about her?”

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest and he remembers what Leopold had said years before, when angry and stressed, and miming a gun with his fingers and -

“Leopold told me all about you,” she says, both an answer and nothing at the same time, “I’’m Ophelia.”

He knew that. In theory he knew that, but it’s nice to have confirmation. To put a face to the name that he’s heard about for years. One of the inescapable differences between their worlds. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Yes,” she agrees easily. He watches as she uses her hand to wipe off her mouth and tries not to focus there. “Leopold is away taking care of something for me, a nasty inhuman that’s causing a big mess. She can make these doubles of herself and-”

“Alisha?”

“Have you already eliminated this inhuman on your earth,” she asks, suddenly sounding almost exciting. 

A feeling that only makes his stomach turn, the word  _ eliminated  _ sticking out suddenly. Echoing through him. 

He’s tried not to ask about Leopold’s work on in this universe, the bits that didn’t involve multiverse traveling. Now he’s reminded of exactly why. 

“Perhaps you could tell me others that you have encountered?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, though no that’s not the right word, “I’m just - stressed -  a little stressed at the moment, and I - This is weird right?”

Her sympathetic look is not comforting, but it’s something, almost. 

“Why don’t I put you on the kettle?  Tea always calms Leopold down.”

 

*

 

He’s not sure how long he spends sitting there on their couch. 

Long enough for the tea he was drinking to have gone cold. 

Long enough to have paged through a newspaper on the coffee table, proclaiming yet another Hydra victory. 

Long enough to have listened to a one sided conversation from the office not far away, talks of a television interview and the name of a man that was familiar to him from his world. 

He almost leaves and goes back to his world, but what’s waiting for him there? Jemma’s gone, the team has told him to give up hope, at least here every so often Ophelia stops by where he’s sitting and asks if he needs anything. 

Still he can’t help letting out a noise of relief, muttering, “Finally,” when the door to the apartment opens. 

He doesn’t mean to watch but he can’t help it. The way Ophelia seems to light up at the sight of Leopold, kisses him instantly, passionately. He knows what that kiss feels like now, tries not to feel jealous of himself.

He’s not jealous.

Not really. He has Jemma, and he loves her, with every part of him, but there’s something here a feeling of  _ what could have been _ . 

He looks away just as they pull away from each other, tries to act casual. 

“Little brother, you finally came to visit!”

“We’re the same person,” Fitz says reflexively because they’ve had this exchange too many times to count. 

Leopold gives him that grin, the one that would never work if Fitz tried it. They may have the same face but they wear it in different ways. 

“I see you met the light of my life.”

“Leopold-”

“You are,” he insists, pressing another kiss to her cheek before, “Did you need to go to the meeting or-”

“I’m fine. I’ll put on a kettle.” 

Fitz watches as she disappears into the kitchen, turning his attention back on the other him, the one in pressed business suit with a Hydra pin on his lapel, looking put together in every way that Fitz is not. 

“She must really like tea.”

“Can’t stand it. She makes it for me usually,” Leopold corrects, “Though I know you're not here to talk about my girlfriend’s kitchen habits.”

“No,” he agrees. 

“Why are you here?”

It all comes out. Suddenly, unable to stop it, everything that’s happened the past year, with the team, and with the inhumans - he purposely does not watch the way Leopold looks uncomfortable at the mention of them working  _ with  _ inhumans - and about losing her. 

“You know what that’s like,” he says in the end, adamant, because he remembers not too long ago the way Leopold had looked, “Losing the most important person in your life? They’ve told me to give up and that she’s dead but…” 

“That was different,” Leopold says, “That was rivals of ours taking her deliberately not an inhuman accident, that was-”

“We’ll try though,” Ophelia says, cutting them both off. He hadn’t even noticed she was back until she spoke, the tea cups being set on the table a moment later. “Leopold, it’s the least you could do. You crosses the universes for me. Surely, you could help your little brother?” 

 

*

 

It’s dead ends and frustration, but it’s more than SHIELD had ever given him.

“She’s not dead or even in a different universe. She’s in yours. Just trapped at a place you can’t reach her.”

“Space,” Fitz says, because for some reason  _ space  _ actually makes sense as an answer. 

It’s better than nothing.

It’s better than what the team back in his universe had been able to come up with.

It’s hope. 

Just a little bit.

Just enough to keep pushing on even all he wants to do is scream and break things until it becomes easier, until it hurts less.

“Don’t go back to that awful world, Fitz, stay with us,” Ophelia says, when he goes to leave. When they’ve given him all that they can and it’s time to go back and fix things on his end. When he’s not even one hundred percent sure where he still belongs. 

“That wouldn’t work, we’re identical remember,” Fitz points out, it’s easier to say that that’s the only reason he can’t stay.

To deny the small ache, the part of him that wouldn’t mind staying with them 

“You could,” Leopold insists, “Father’s had many mistresses, you could pass for my younger brother easily.” 

“I can’t live in a world where Hydra won.” 

That’s it though.

That’s the truth. 

He pretends not to see the way both of their faces go colder at that, disappointed, as if they’d forgotten that he was loyal to SHIELD. Staying here, with them, he sometimes find it easy to forget that himself, to get accustomed to finer bits of life. 

A part of him is afraid that he could do it.

Could fall into this life so easily and play the part.

Be a great man instead of a good man. 

“I’ll visit. After I get Jemma back, maybe I’ll find a way to bring her with me, we could spend a day together. The four of us” 

It’s weak offer.

One that they both he won’t follow through with.

Jemma wouldn’t understand this world like he does. 

Maybe once he gets her back he’ll try to explain, and then maybe…

“I have to go.”

“Yes, I suppose you do.”

 

*

 

“I went to an alien planet.”

“Why do I miss all the fun?”

 

*

 

He visits when he’s stressed, when he needs a break from his world, when he needs to talk to  _ himself _ .

“Jemma wants to get an apartment together?”

“That’s a bad thing,” Leopold asks idly. 

Leopold’s flipping through something on a tablet in front of him. Fitz had glanced at it for a second, enough to know that he didn’t want to  _ know  _ the details, enough to recognize the face on the screen. 

He wasn’t here to talk about the other him’s work torturing inhumans. 

“I’m not sure,” he admits, “Maybe?”

“I live with Ophelia,” Leopold points out, “We have since, fuck, shortly after SHIELD fell? After we killed her father and inherited the penthouse.”

“After you- what?”

“Killed her father,” he repeats. Which does not help, and once again Fitz is very sure that he does not what to know. “It was necessary.”

“Right okay, so when you and your girlfriend-”

“Wife.”

“What?”

Leopold hold up his hand, wiggling his finger so the gold band stands out.

“Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?”

“You refused to move here and be my little brother. This is what you get. Are you planning on inviting me to your wedding?”

Fitz isn’t sure if the horrible chill that goes through him is at the idea of getting married, or the idea of having to explain to the whole SHIELD team that he’s friends with an evil alternate universe version of himself.

Neither of which appeal to him at the moment. 

“How do you do this?”

This time Leopold is the one that asks, “What?” Putting down his tablet for a brief moment to actually make eye contact with Fitz.

It’s always weird, looking into identical eyes. 

“How are you, my evil Hydra twin, settled with your life and at the top of your field and married and living in an expensive penthouse, on your way to have the two-point-five kids next surely-”

“Ophelia and I agreed that only one heir is necessary.” 

“I just meant - does being  _ evil  _ make you less of a mess? Is that what it is? I can either be a good person or well organized?” 

The snort he gets in reply is not an answer.

“This is why you’re the little brother.” 

 

*

 

Things go from bad to worse so much, that he doesn’t have time to visit.

There’s ghosts.

And the devil. 

And a life model decoy that looks far too familiar.

And the sting of betrayal that he knows too well. 

And not knowing who he is anymore.

And the Framework.

And the Framework.

And the Framework. 

And the - 

 

*

 

He wakes up in the middle of the night shaking from a nightmare. She’s beside him now still even though their relationship is rocky, even though there’s so much they need to discuss, so much that has changed. 

When he wakes up it feels so real and he turns expecting someone else beside him. Drowning in the memories of the Framework.

Of another life.

Of another universe.

Suddenly he knows exactly where he needs to be.

Ignoring her concerned, “Fitz? Are you alright?” as he hurried out of the bed, to the nightstand where the hopper has been forgotten for months.

His heart thumps in his chest when he holds it steady in his hand.

Adrenaline from more than just the nightmare.

He needs this, to figure himself out, he needs to do this. To go back to the one place that feels like it could still be his, the one place that’s always there when he closes his eyes, the one place that he’s known about since that day in the Academy labs.

“I just need - need to take a walk.” 

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No,” he says, too quickly. Avoiding her eyes. Avoiding the accusation there. “No, I’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t say  _ I’ll be back _ , because he’s not sure he will.  

He leaves their shared room, makes it just barely out into the hallway. Waiting until he is certain for a moment that she’s not going to follow him. That nobody is around to see. Before pressing the button that will take him away from here. 

Away from SHIELD.

He hates the part of himself that feels comforted standing in that living room, looking at the ornate Hydra symbol on the wall, and the man sitting at the piano underneath it.

The man that is also him. 

“How do you live with yourself day after day?”

“I try not to think about it.” 

 


End file.
